


Outside Looking In

by TwilightKnight17



Series: Persona Kink Meme [12]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akechi's breakdown taking a slightly different form, Akira's forgiveness could power the whole world, Angst, Blow Jobs, Fuck Or Die, Knifeplay, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Rough Sex, probably unrealistic reactions in the aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16383005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightKnight17/pseuds/TwilightKnight17
Summary: All Akechi wanted, whether he would admit it or not, was to spend a little more time with them before he had to end everything.As is normal for everything he does, it eventually goes horribly wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I cleaned this up a little while I try to knock out my stress-induced writer's block. Just...mind the tags, okay?
> 
> Original prompt: https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=1064417
> 
> "Non-Con+NTR: AkeShu as PolyThieves are forced to watch"
> 
> (The prompt jtself was very detailed, so I'm not going to add the whole thing here.)

The Thieves gathered in Akira’s attic all stared at him, and Goro met their scrutiny with a calm expression that he didn’t quite feel. This was selfish and foolish and stupid. It could ruin his entire plan if things went south, but somehow he hadn’t been able to talk himself out of asking. The Thieves were _good people_ after all, they couldn’t let an injustice like this stand.

“Takeshi Yukimura.” He dropped a file on the table, and Makoto picked it up to flip through it as he continued, “A sex-trafficker known for being particularly brutal, with a taste for snuff films. The police have been working to catch him for years, but hard evidence is impossible to come by, and he has too many lackeys willing to take the fall for him.”

“I thought you just wanted to do Niijima’s Palace, though?” Ann asked. “Now you want to go after someone else?”

“We have time,” Goro began, and Ryuji scoffed.

“So you’re just using us to catch people you can’t, ‘til you force us to disband?”

“This is someone _vile_ ,” Goro snapped. He wasn’t willing to admit that he didn’t want this to end yet. The sense of camaraderie he’d found among the Thieves was dangerously addictive. But he had plans, and those plans didn’t involve the group continuing to exist. So for now, he would take what chances he could to keep their company a while longer, and take down someone he’d wanted to for ages in the process. Yukimura was in much the same position as Kaneshiro, funneling money to Shido earned from his criminal activities. But Yukimura was far crueler than the yakuza boss had ever been. Goro never had the opportunity to take him out without suspicion before, but now...it would be easy to blame on the Thieves as well.

Akira, for his part, was quiet while his friends looked through the file. The glimpses that he got were enough to back up what Goro said: the man was disgusting and terrible. But Akira was more interested in _Goro’s_ motives. Why take a risk that something would go wrong with his plan before the deadline by doing another Palace?

This was an opportunity, though. Akira was convinced Goro could still be coaxed into slipping, revealing something about his plan. He wasn’t a lost cause. And another Palace would give them more time to get through to him.

And it wasn’t like Goro was asking them to target someone innocent.

“I think we should do it,” he said, “but it has to be unanimous.”

They all looked at him in surprise, including Goro, who hadn’t been sure if anyone would agree.

“I suppose this is someone that needs to be stopped,” Makoto said.

“If he’s actually murdering people, we have to do something. We’re the Phantom Thieves! Even if it’s not for much longer, we have to help as many people as we can now,” Ann agreed.

“What this man is doing is an affront to all forms of art,” Yusuke huffed.

They all decided that it was something they needed to do, for the sake of their justice. Morgana spent the whole time looking suspiciously at Akira, but even he agreed, and Ryuji leaned his chair back on two legs. “So what’s this guy’s Palace, then? Do you already know?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time working it out,” Goro admitted. “He works mostly out of the warehouse district when conducting his ‘business’, and he views it as a television soundstage, where his ‘works’ are crafted. I have never actually entered the Palace, but I would assume that we will encounter...less-than-pleasant depictions of people.”

Akira looked around at them all. “If anyone’s uncomfortable with what we might find, you can sit this Palace out, okay?” His gaze lingered on Ann, who he knew might not be ready to deal with anything like that after everything that happened with Shiho.

“We just have to remember that it’s not real,” Ann said. “None of it is real, and then we’ll be able to stop him.”

There were no further objections, and Akira nodded decisively. “We’ll meet the day after tomorrow to do the infiltration, then. Meeting adjourned.”

As the Thieves filed out of the attic, Goro hung back just long enough to say, “Thank you for doing this, Leader.”

And for the first time in a long time, neither of them were sure how sincere he was.


	2. Chapter 2

The worst thing about working with the Phantom Thieves, in Goro’s opinion, was how blatantly affectionate they all were. They thought they were being subtle, with their secret smiles and casual touches, but Goro had spent most of his life perfecting his ability to read people, and it was screamingly obvious that all of them were involved. Maybe not romantically, though he had noticed how they all pined over Akira in their own ways, but at the very least they were all casually sleeping together. It was also obvious that his presence had caused a ripple in their dynamic; they danced around him sometimes as if trying to _hide_ the fact that Haru had slept with Ryuji _and_ Makoto in the past two weeks.

They had made no efforts to include him, of course, but he didn’t lament that at all. He didn’t want attention from fools like that. He didn’t trust that it would be any more sincere than the empty attention of his fangirls. Even if he did wake up sometimes from dreams where things were different, where Akira was all too willing to put red-gloved hands all over him, it was just a physical thing. Unfortunately, he was seventeen, and he couldn’t control his mind when he was asleep.

The Palace was mostly quiet. So far they had avoided most of the unpleasantness by not entering the smaller rooms, where from the sounds it was quite obvious that certain...activities were taking place. All of them were uncomfortable, sticking to the main hallways, and Ryuji and Makoto were taking turns holding Ann’s hands.

“I’m honestly surprised we haven’t had to search those rooms for keys or something,” Futaba said. “Not that I’d want to, but terrible levels like this usually hide the good stuff in the exact place you don’t want to go.”

“He’s clearly only got imagination for certain things, and level design isn’t one of them,” Ann practically growled, and Ryuji squeezed her hand tight.

“C’mon, we’re almost at the middle of this place, I’m sure of it,” he said, gesturing to the double doors at the end of the hall. Akira and Goro had gone a little ways ahead, checking for traps, and they waved the rest of the Thieves onwards once it was obvious nothing was waiting to fall out of the ceiling on them.

When they entered the main soundstage, it was empty of people, though several spotlights focused on the freestanding, transparent structure was taking up most of the center of the available space.

“Hey, Oracle, we’re getting close to the Treasure, right? You said this place wasn’t very big,” Ryuji asked.

Futaba pulled up a map, looking over the outlines of the rooms and tracing her finger over the paths. “Probably? It looks like there’s a path backstage that leads to a different room all by itself.”

“A dressing room, perhaps?” Goro suggested. He headed for the stage, walking down the narrow stairs and pressing a hand to what they had thought was glass. “Oh. This is some kind of illusion,” he said, as his arm passed right through. Instead of going around, he cut through the middle, but stopped in alarm as he found that he was unable to get back out.

“Crow?” Yusuke called. “Is everything all right?”

“It’s some sort of...one-way forcefield,” Goro said tentatively. He walked the circumference with a hand trailing along the surface and was eventually forced to acknowledge that he was stuck.

“There’s probably a switch somewhere!” Morgana said. “We just have to track down how to cut it off.”

_“All of you stay where you are; I would rather this not end too soon.”_

Yukimura’s shadow emerged from the back hall that Oracle had indicated and stepped into the ring with Goro, a cruel smile on his face. _“My, my, look at you. What brings you to my studio? You wouldn’t be those Thieves I’ve heard about, would you?”_

“O-Of course not,” Haru began. “We’re simply here to start...work?”

Shadow Yukimura scowled. _“I hate liars, girl.”_ He drew a gun from his waistband, pointing it right at Goro. _“Now, why don’t you give me another volunteer to join us, unless you’d prefer seeing what I can do with just one? I’ve got a couple of new things I’ve been meaning to try, and blood will look so nice on all that white he’s wearing.”_

Goro didn’t seem particularly fazed by the gun other than a slight widening of his eyes, but the rest of the Thieves looked at each other with an immediate sense of panic. Traitor or not, he didn’t deserve to be shot or tortured. There was only a second of hesitation, and then Akira stepped forward, darting down the stairs and into the glass cage as well. “Hey, no need for that. I’m here,” he said. “You really should just let us out. Maybe then we could show you what we’re capable of?”

Shadow Yukimura laughed. _“Hm, we think alike, in one respect. But I don’t need to let you out for that.”_

Akira eyed the gun warily. “What do you want, then?”

_“I want a show, pretty thief,”_ Shadow Yukimura said with a coy smile. _“I’m sure you know what I mean. You and your friend here look perfect to play the parts; I’m not picky which is which.”_ He waved the gun just enough to draw Goro’s eye, and pointed it at Akira instead. _“Or else, the option is still open to make one of my other films instead…”_

Goro’s heart seized, and he swallowed hard, trying to quell a sharp, instinctive urge to deflect the man’s aim from Akira back to him. The sight of Akira with a gun pointed at his head shouldn’t be affecting him like this. It was something he would have done himself in a week’s time anyway. His heart shouldn’t be racing; he shouldn’t feel ill at the idea of Akira’s blood spilling all over this cursed glass prison.

It was just because it would ruin his plans. That was all.

“I’ve heard of you,” he said with the most charming smile he could manage. “I know the sort of thing you would enjoy; I have experience in such things myself. You’ll have to forgive my...friend, however. He’s an amateur, I’m afraid.”

_“Oh? Experience? In that case, by all means, I’d love a demonstration,”_ Shadow Yukimura said with amusement. The alternative wasn’t spoken, but was obvious. It was this, or presumably a drawn-out, painful death for the cameras. But as Goro looked from the other Thieves, tense and anxious outside the barrier, to the floor, he knew this might be just as bad, depending on how Akira reacted. But they didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t die here, no matter what, and if that meant forcing Akira to go along so they survived, so be it. It wasn’t like they had the luxury of discussing a plan. He just had to _act_.

Akira took a step closer. “Crow?” he asked gently, and Goro moved before he could let second thoughts overwhelm him.

It was pathetically easy to catch Akira off-guard, throwing him against the glass-like wall. His head made contact with a sickening crack, and he yelped at the pain, instinctively reaching up for the spot. Goro grabbed his wrists before he could, pinning them over his head and staring into grey eyes wide with a spectrum of emotions. Betrayal, first, and it stung more than Goro had thought it would, but also slowly dawning realization, and then fear. It just proved Goro’s theory that Akira had never experienced anything like this before.

Lucky him.

“Struggle,” he whispered, just loudly enough for Akira alone to hear him. “We have to make this convincing.”

Understanding didn’t lessen the fear in Akira’s expression, and he tugged ineffectively against the hold Goro had on his wrists. Goro transferred them to one hand and reached for Akira’s mask.

“W-Wait--!”

But it was swiftly removed and tossed aside, and Goro stared into grey eyes that looked far more vulnerable without it. “Oh, no, I won’t have you using your powers against me.” He glanced at Shadow Yukimura, who was watching with the gun still visible in his hand, and then at the Thieves, who looked like they had been sucker-punched just as hard as Akira. Once the shock wore off, they would probably try to stop him, so he needed to get this going before they did something stupid and got everyone killed.

He reached under Akira’s coat and pulled his knife from its sheath, then shoved him to his knees and planted one foot firmly on one of his coattails to pin him there. “I was an orphan,” he began conversationally, trying desperately to think as little as possible about what he was saying. Instead, he tried to hold on to his occasional fantasies of Joker’s touch, because this wasn’t going to work if he couldn’t even get hard. Fortunately the sight of Akira so vulnerable was helping as well, and Goro twisted a hand into his hair and pulled his head back. “One of the older boys at one of those disgusting boys’ homes decided that I was pretty enough to be an acceptable alternative to what he really wanted.”

He pressed the flat of the blade to Akira’s throat to keep him in place when he let go of his hair. With one hand now free, he reached down to start undoing his pants.

“What the _fuck_ , Crow?” Ryuji shouted, sprinting down the stairs towards the barrier. But unlike when Akira and Goro had passed through, he slammed straight into it like it was solid glass, and Shadow Yukimura laughed.

_“You can’t interrupt the filming,”_ he said, and Goro flinched just slightly as he became aware that the cameras surrounding the soundstage had cut on and were recording. Yukimura’s shadow pointed the gun at Ryuji lazily. _“I’m hoping for glowing reviews from all of you when this is done!”_

Ann was shaking, and Makoto wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Futaba pulled at Prometheus’s screens, looking for anything that might help them control the barrier, but nothing was coming up, and Ryuji slammed his fists into the glass and backed off. “Fucker,” he growled.

“He expects critique?” Yusuke asked, sounding incredibly put-off. “Of this depraved display?”

Haru shushed him quickly. “If we don’t act enthusiastic about this, he may decide that they are better as actors for his other films,” she said anxiously. “He’ll shoot them if we don’t play along.”

“Crow’s...trying to keep them alive by playing along,” Morgana said tentatively. “I think…”

Inside the barrier, Goro ran his thumb over Akira’s bottom lip, then gripped his jaw hard. “Open your mouth, Joker,” he crooned. “Let’s see if you do as well as I did.” He would be lying to himself if he pretended that the nervous, wide-eyed look Akira was sporting wasn’t contributing to how hard his cock was, but it couldn’t overshadow the feeling of guilt creeping up his spine, that he would be hurting someone the way that he had been hurt.

Akira’s eyes darted from him to Shadow Yukimura, and he very slowly opened his mouth. Goro took the knife away, slipping his hand back into Akira’s hair and drawing him forward so that his cock rested against Akira’s lips. “Take a deep breath,” he murmured, then louder, so their captor could hear him, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck your mouth.”

He stalled just a few extra seconds until he saw Akira breathe deep, then slid his cock into Akira’s mouth, feeding it to him inch-by-inch until it touched the back of his throat. He paused there, feeling Akira swallowing convulsively, and Yukimura’s shadow scowled.

_“What are you waiting for?”_

“It’s not pleasant for me if he gags and bites me,” Goro said coolly, doing his best not to moan at how hot Akira’s mouth was. He began to rock his hips shallowly, continuing, “I wasn’t any good at the time, obviously, being so young, and he was a bit of an idiot. It’s no fun to watch someone choke if it ruins all the pleasure for you. I bit him, but Joker here is better than that. Right?”

Akira didn’t respond, just took another breath when Goro pulled back, and forced himself not to gag as the next thrust slid down his throat. He’d clearly at least given a blowjob before, and Goro gave him no mercy after that, thrusting hard and deep against his mouth, well-aware that Shadow Yukimura was watching with interest as Akira’s eyes teared up from the struggle to breathe and not choke.

Goro didn’t keep it up long. He knew it wasn’t going to be enough to keep the shadow’s interest forever. So when the pleasure was enough to have gotten him fully hard, he kicked Akira solidly in the chest. It sent the other boy sprawling onto his back, winded with tears leaking from his eyes, and Goro planted a foot on his stomach to keep him down as he took a breath.

_“So,”_ Yukimura’s shadow said, turning to the Thieves, _“he’s got a little experience, but this other one might be too much of an amateur. I don’t know if it’s quite good enough to make a better profit than selling them off or using them in other ways.”_

“N-No, no!” Futaba stammered, watching the gun he was still holding. “I mean, look at them, they’re both gorgeous. Who _wouldn’t_ want to watch them together?”

“This hasn’t even been a complete demonstration,” Makoto insisted, hating every word coming out of her mouth. They all knew their encouragement would just lead to their leader being hurt worse, but there was nothing else they could do until they figured out how to get through that barrier. From the corner of her eye, she saw Morgana start slinking around the edge of the room, and added quickly to keep the shadow’s eyes on them, “Just a b-b-- Just a b-blowjob isn’t a good indication at all!”

Yukimura’s shadow turned back to Goro. _“She’s got a point, pretty boy. What other experience can you offer? Your story so far has been a little weak.”_

Akira looked up at Goro as the detective dropped to his knees, using his weight to pin Akira’s hips. For a long, tense moment, he was completely silent, just staring into Akira’s wary gunmetal eyes, and then they both heard the click of the gun behind him and he pasted on a cruel smile. “Oh, that wasn’t all,” he said, pushing up his left sleeve at an angle where Shadow Yukimura couldn’t see. He peeled off the healing patch Akira had bought from his shady medical contact and tucked it into his palm, then leaned forward to grab Akira’s wrist, secretly pressing it to his skin and leaving him wearing two of them. 

Akira almost immediately felt a burst of healing magic against his sore throat as both patches worked on him, but it didn’t stop the anxious pit in his stomach. If Goro was giving him another patch, how badly was he about to hurt him?

“When you’re an orphan, you do what you have to, to survive,” Goro said, as if he was talking about the weather, though there was an ill edge to his voice. He lifted the knife he was still holding and began carelessly cutting through Akira’s clothes, leaving his coat and vest in ribbons and baring his chest. He left a few cuts behind, but the healing patches stopped them from bleeding too much, and he scooted back to rip off Akira’s boots. That was when Akira started fighting, and without hesitation Goro reached up and pressed the point of the knife to his stomach, daring him to move and stab himself.

“Crow, please,” Akira said, a tremor in his voice, but he froze.

Goro ignored him, tearing his pants down and off. Akira flinched, trying to cover himself, and Goro dragged the knife just enough to cause a line of blood to well up in its wake.

“Staying alive took precedence over everything, and that included dignity,” Goro said. He flipped the knife over and slammed the hilt into Akira’s stomach, causing him to retch as the wind was knocked out of him again, and grabbed him firmly by the ankle. Akira tried weakly to kick at him, but Goro just shifted aside and used the leverage he had to flip Akira onto his stomach. “That meant that when all you had to bargain with was your pretty face, you used it. After all, there are enough perverts in Tokyo willing to take advantage of a virgin. So you do it once, and it works, and then you lie. You lie and lie until you can put on the perfect act every time to make them believe they’re the first. And it works, because monsters like that are all the same.”

Ann gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. No one knew what to say, watching with horror as Goro dropped back down onto Akira’s legs and traced the knife over its owner’s back, leaving behind shallow cuts.

“People like that, they all want to leave a mark on you. They all want you to remember that they were the ‘first’,” Goro said, and Akira let out a pained cry as he dug the blade in. Goro watched the bloody form of the ‘A’ take shape in the knife’s wake, feeling guilty. He was realizing that he didn’t want to see Akira crying out in pain. He wanted Akira to enjoy his touch, especially since he had a guess that the leader of the notorious Phantom Thieves was a virgin in at least one way.

For appearance’s sake, though, he brought his other hand down on Akira’s bare ass with a sharp smack. “Oh, stop crying. This is hardly anything.” He scooted to the side to free Akira’s legs and reached out, grabbing him by his hair and pulling him upright, Akira’s back to his chest. Akira scrabbled against the floor, trying to push himself up so all of his weight wasn’t on his hair, and he let out an anxious whimper as Goro’s hand ran down his chest to his limp cock. “You’re not even enjoying this? How do you think that makes me feel?”

Akira shuddered, but was pliant, hoping now that Goro wouldn’t do anything worse if he just played along. Goro got them shifted so they were both seated, the thief still pressed to his chest, his hard cock rubbing against Akira’s lower back as he squirmed. He locked his legs over Akira’s to keep him from kicking, reached up, and Akira’s eyes widened as gloved fingertips brushed his neck. He expected to be choked, but Goro just traced the lines of his throat lightly, his fingertips brushing down his chest and stomach, and he tried and failed to hide his face as his body reacted. Goro hummed contentedly, thumbing over a nipple, and Shadow Yukimura scowled again.

_“I thought you understood my vision, little prince. What the fuck are you doing?”_ he demanded.

“Oh, you don’t understand,” Goro said with his best television smile. “The very _worst_ part is when someone is kind to you.” He ran his hands so gently down Akira’s thighs, caressing soft skin, and stroked the base of Akira’s hardening cock. “You feel so much pleasure, and you don’t _want_ it, but you can’t stop your body from surrendering. You feel so _good_ , and you hate every moment of it, because you would rather be anywhere else.”

Akira bit back a desperate noise, swallowing it down to stay silent, refusing to give either of them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. Goro tried to get him to moan, to sob, to beg him to stop, even, but Akira gave up nothing, and Goro could see Yukimura’s shadow growing irritated. So in one smooth movement, Goro scooped up the knife from where he’d set it aside and reached for Akira’s face.

With one gloved hand over Akira’s mouth and the knife at his throat, sharp edge teasing threateningly at his pulse, it was easy to tell that Akira was afraid. He just refused to show it, doing his absolute best to shut down any and all reactions. But Goro’s murmur in his ear was desperate as he said, “You have to react. You have to at least pretend to fight. He’ll kill us if you keep holding back, because he doesn’t think anyone wants to see an acquiescent victim.”

Akira made a quiet, ragged sound of objection, and Goro ducked his head, trying to keep up a threatening facade even as he pressed his lips gently to Akira’s neck beneath his ear. “Please. I want you to make it out of this.”

The sound Akira made then was low, questioning, and Goro huffed a weak laugh. “I am willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive and keep you alive,” he whispered. “ _Whatever it takes._ But… All I can offer you is this. If there is truly something that you cannot endure, the safeword is… ‘Loki’. And I will end things before he can torture you further.”

He felt Akira go still as a statue in his grip, swallowing against the razor edge of the knife, and Goro knew that he understood the offer. Akira was smart enough to know that their options were to play along or die. And if Yukimura’s shadow decided that they would better serve him as actors in a snuff film, he would draw it out as painfully as possible. Goro was offering a quick death, if the situation arose.

_“Ooh. Whatever threat you made seems to be working. He looks terrified,”_ Yukimura’s shadow said gleefully. He glanced over at his audience, grinning. _“I think we need to see the conclusion to determine how useful they’ll really be, though. And I think there’s some juicy bits the prince is still holding back, don’t you?”_

The other Thieves were on the verge of screaming outside of the glass cage. Ann had turned away already, burying her face against Ryuji’s neck, and when Shadow Yukimura looked at her with an annoyed expression, Ryuji said quickly, “She’s not feelin’ well. Your, uh, scene’s going great, though!”

“I’m intrigued to see what comes next,” Makoto said, only slightly awkwardly. It was a half-truth; she wanted to know more about Goro, because she had a feeling he was getting desperate enough to reveal something significant. That it was coming at the expense of their leader’s well-being still hurt, though.

“Perhaps,” Haru said very quietly, so that the shadow couldn’t hear, “we have truly found someone that deserves a mental shutdown. If he treats people like this in real life…”

“Noir, we can’t,” Futaba said, eyes wide, but she hesitated before speaking. It was the right thing to say, but this monster… And Goro, too. He was already plotting to kill Akira, and now _this_...

“But what if we did?” Yusuke murmured bluntly, and all of them felt cold.

Morgana was out of sight on the other side of the room, and they forced themselves to keep watching as Goro shoved Akira onto his back, dragging his cuts against the unforgiving floor and prying his legs open.

“No one’s had you like this, have they?” he said, pushing Akira’s knees back and ignoring his yelp. “All of your precious friends, I bet you’ve fucked them all, but no one’s had the _privilege_ to claim you for themselves.” He pushed the pad of his thumb roughly against Akira’s entrance, and the distressed cry he earned for his trouble gave him all the answers he needed. He smiled, leaning forward. “I’ll be happy to take that privilege.”

It was a strange feeling, guilt and satisfaction and adoration and hate all wrapped up in a confusing tangle as he slicked himself with saliva and forced himself inside, ignoring the ragged scream that tore from Akira’s throat.

“You’re so _lucky_ ,” he gritted out, bucking his hips and causing another cry of pain. Akira’s erection was flagging, but Goro forced himself to keep going, to keep talking. Akira hadn’t stopped him, and they were going to die if he didn’t put on a good show. But he honestly couldn’t say how much of a show it was anymore. The words came easier and easier as he spoke. “You’re lucky because you have friends and family that love you. They’ll take care of you after this; you’ll never want for knowing that you are adored. It’s infuriating! You have everything that I’ve ever wanted and you haven’t even tried! You came to Tokyo as a criminal and found friends and a father-figure that love you. I found _my_ father and do you know what he did? He used me just the same as every other monster!”

He thrust harder, ignoring that the friction was hurting him, too, and said furiously, “It wasn’t enough to just offer him my powers! It wasn’t enough to break people at his word! Why not promise me to his disgusting supporters on top of that, knowing that I can’t refuse? And do you know what the most hilarious part is? He doesn’t even _realize_ he’s whoring out his own son!”

He didn’t know how much of this Akira was hearing. The other boy’s eyes had gone glazed and unfocused, glassy with pain, and he sobbed roughly at each forceful thrust. “And the worst part is that I don’t even want you to die! I want you and I _can’t have you!_ You won’t even want to _look_ at me after this!”

Akira gurgled a ragged, agonized noise, and Goro realized there was no way either of them were going to cum like this, so after a few more thrusts he pulled out, ignoring the blood from his rough treatment, and wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked. It took more effort than it usually would; this wasn’t even an act anymore. He didn’t know what it was. But he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to picture a willing, pliant Akira under his hands, moaning from pleasure instead of pain, and finally managed to bring himself to a peak so that his cum could paint Akira’s chest.

This entire Palace had been a mistake. He’d ruined everything, just like always.

Akira didn’t move, limp and covered in cum, and Goro was dimly aware of the other Thieves calling for him from outside of the barrier as Yukimura’s shadow applauded enthusiastically.

_“Bravo, bravo, well-done!”_ he praised. _“That was fantastic. The raw anger and rage! The sheer forcefulness! The other one is definitely an amateur, but his reactions were priceless there at the end. Who doesn’t love seeing a pretty thing like him in pain? You two will do well; I could get a high price for more stuff with you. Much higher than I would for your deaths.”_ He looked over at the other Thieves, beaming. _“What did you think? Truly a masterpiece of raw emotion, yes?”_

Haru squeezed Yusuke’s arm in a vice grip to keep him from speaking, and said instead, “It was truly inspiring,” with the most adoring fake smile she could manage.

“Enlightening,” Makoto said, clapping her hands together, and Ann, who had finally looked up from Ryuji’s shoulder, stared at Akira and Goro with empty eyes and added, “In many ways.”

_“Excellent!”_ Shadow Yukimura said contentedly. _“Let me check the footage, then perhaps I can see what the rest of you can do as well.”_ He walked straight through the barrier and back towards the dressing room, and the Thieves exchanged wide-eyed glances before lunging for it themselves. They ricocheted off the glass as Ryuji had before, and Makoto looked around for Morgana frantically.

“Mona, have you found a switch or something yet?!”

“Not yet!” Morgana called back. “He must be immune to the barrier; it’s been solid this whole time.”

They exchanged despairing looks. It was obvious the shadow didn’t care if they got away. He had what he wanted, imprisoned behind the glass.

“We have to spread out and find something. Anything. We have to get them out of there,” Haru said firmly, and all of them threw themselves into searching, trying not to think about everything that had happened.

Inside the glass cage, Goro did up his pants to pretend he had any modesty left and unbuttoned his bloodstained jacket. Left in his white undershirt, he gently lifted Akira to wrap the jacket around him, but was shocked when Akira leaned into him, hiding his face against Goro’s neck and shuddering harshly. Goro didn’t know what to do. All of Akira’s clothes were ruined, thanks to him, and the idea that Akira was looking for comfort from the person that had hurt him so badly made him feel sick to his stomach. But he curled his arms around Akira and cradled him against his chest, running a soothing hand through his hair and trying to shield him from the world with his body alone.

Akira’s hands fisted into his undershirt, clinging desperately. Goro could feel the moment he began to cry, sobs causing him to quake in his arms, and he didn’t know what to do other than pet him gently, with the lightest of touches, not wanting to hurt him anymore. He ran his hands softly up and down Akira’s arms and back, careful not to disturb his cuts. The healing patches he was wearing were knitting them up gradually, but they would still be sore, not to mention his other injuries.

Akira took a sharp breath against his neck, and said in a voice thick from crying, “Did you mean everything you said?”

He could lie, but what was the use at this point? “Everything,” Goro whispered.

A tiny, drained sigh slipped from Akira’s lips, and he sagged even further against Goro. “I wanted you too,” he breathed. “But you wouldn’t open up…” 

Goro buried his face in Akira’s hair, wanting to cry himself. He barely noticed the yell of triumph as someone finally found controls for the barrier, only realizing they were free when he was roughly yanked away from the now-passed-out leader of the Thieves. Makoto’s grip on his arm was forceful enough to leave a bruise, but he just watched with empty eyes as Yusuke gathered Akira up into a secure hold. There was silence for a long, awkward moment, and then Makoto said flatly, “We’re leaving. Now.”


	3. Chapter 3

They went back to Ann’s apartment, the only place with enough room for all of them where no one would ask any questions. Akira was looked over, his mostly-healed cuts were treated, and he was bundled into Ann’s softest oversized lounge pants. None of her shirts would fit him, but they tucked him into bed with Morgana to keep an eye on him while the rest of them returned to the living room to stare down Goro.

“Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t take you back in that Palace and leave you there,” Ryuji snarled, and Goro hunched into himself.

“...there isn’t one,” he whispered. They would be well within their rights to do whatever they wanted with him.

“We know what you were planning,” Yusuke said. “We know what you were going to do to Akira, but this…”

Ann wouldn’t look at him. “How could you hurt him like that? Couldn’t you have faked it?”

Goro wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “We would have died if I hadn’t, in case you hadn’t noticed. Probably in some horrible way. And he said he hated liars; he would have hurt us even worse if he had thought our actions weren’t genuine.”

“So you didn’t want him to die until _you_ murdered him, you mean?” Futaba snapped. “I guess if he died early it’d suck for your plan, huh?”

“I didn’t realize how much I didn’t want him to die until confronted with the immediate possibility,” Goro murmured, wishing he could harness any of his old anger instead of this meekness. But he just couldn’t muster the will to be nasty to them after everything in the Palace, even though two days ago he’d hated all of their guts. He couldn’t even be angry that they apparently knew about his plans. “I...asked to do the Palace in the first place, not only because I wanted that man to suffer for his crimes, but because...I wished to spend just a little more time as part of the team.” He covered his face with his hands, a choked sound escaping. “Everything went so wrong…”

They all watched him awkwardly, and finally Ann asked in a flat voice, “How much of those stories were true? About all of the abuse?”

“All of it,” Goro said. “It’s all true. And everything I told Joker about how lucky he was and how much I wanted him.”

Ann took a shaky breath before abruptly turning on her heel and heading for the door to the balcony. She pulled out her phone on the way, and the last thing any of them heard before the door shut was “Hey, Shiho, do you… have time to talk?”

Makoto folded her arms and glared at Goro. “You have a lot to explain. Start talking. Because from what you said, you weren’t just planning to murder Akira-kun. You’re behind the mental shutdowns, too.”

There was nothing left to be done. Goro pulled his feet up, wrapping his arms around his knees. All he could do was spill everything, and trust the Phantom Thieves with what tiny scraps of faith he had left. “My father’s name is Masayoshi Shido…”

***

Goro told them everything he could think of. Everything about his past, Shido, his time acting as Black Mask. As many disgusting, raw details as he could manage, trying to paint the clearest picture he could of why things had turned out this way. And more than anything, he emphasized that he wished none of it had happened at all. 

That he wished he’d met them all sooner, before things had gotten so bad.

Ann returned partway through, clutching her phone, but she sat down and listened attentively as he elaborated on his past in the foster system. He skimmed over the details, letting the implications speak for themselves, but the Thieves looked uncomfortable regardless and he took a guilty sort of pleasure in making them squirm. Yes, they had to watch everything in the Palace and had to listen to the explanation, but he’d _lived_ it. They could suffer being uncomfortable a while longer, since no one had laid hands on any of them.

“So what do we do?” Haru asked, when he finally fell silent.

“Yukimura’s a monster,” Futaba said. “I really hate to say it, but we could get away with shutting him down.”

“No,” Makoto snapped. “We can’t do that.”

“Do you really want blood on your hands?” Goro asked, but he stopped talking again as half of them frowned at him. They seemed more forgiving after learning everything he had been through, but he knew that wasn’t enough to put him completely into their good graces.

Ryuji sighed. “We can’t kill the guy, or we’re gonna eff up our whole code as Phantom Thieves. But we gotta finish his Palace so he grovels.”

“Can we take Joker back in there, though, or is Yukimura going to react to him?” Ann asked. “We can’t let anything like that happen again.”

“I’ll be fine.” Akira appeared in the doorway, much to the surprise of his teammates. He waved off their concern, coming over to sit gingerly beside Goro. There was a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and he looked exhausted, but his eyes were bright as he said, “We have to take down Yukimura, but the bigger problem is Shido.”

“You were listening?” Yusuke asked, and Akira nodded.

“As best I could. He’s the real problem here.” He pulled the blanket tighter around himself and looked at Goro. “Are you willing to help us?”

Goro stared at him in shock. “Why would you even want my help after I hurt you so badly?” He couldn’t believe Akira was even sitting next to him after what he had done. “You can’t tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Akira began, but before he could continue Goro reached for his face.

He stopped immediately when Akira flinched. “Fine, hm? Forgive me if I don’t believe you. And don’t even try to tell me it isn’t my fault.”

Akira took a deep breath. “Well, if you’re gonna make sudden moves…” He pouted and hunched further into the couch. “We...weren’t going to get out of there if you hadn’t done that, so...at least none of us are dead. That’s a positive.”

“I could have done something different. Like… Like Ann said, I could have at least tried to fake it, but I just…” Goro clenched his fist, feeling irrationally angry. Why wasn’t Akira upset with him? Why wasn’t Akira disgusted at the sight of him?

“You had a lot to deal with,” Akira murmured. “You...hated me, didn’t you? Sort of. It doesn’t excuse what you did, but...I kind of understand.”

“Sort of,” Goro parroted. “I don’t understand why I’m even here. You should have thrown me to the police to get them off your backs. Your stupidity really knows no bounds.”

“Akechi-kun, shut up,” Ann said, to everyone’s surprise. “You’re like us. Your father, all those people that hurt you. You’re just like us; adults took advantage of you, are still taking advantage of you. And you told us the truth.”

“Because I didn’t have any other choice.”

“You could have stayed silent,” Morgana said, hopping up beside Haru. “You could have left here, at any time. Could they really have stopped you if you wanted to go?”

Goro looked around at them all. “Can you really say that you trust me to help you, though?”

There was an uneasy silence, and then Futaba said plainly, “Look, we had a plan to get around you, but if you help us with it, it’d give us an opening to help you go after Shido. If everybody can deal with that long enough, we can get all our targets. Besides, if you step out of line again, I can ruin you, no police required.”

“I...” Goro murmured. He wanted it, he wanted their help so badly, but at this point he didn’t dare think he deserved it. He deserved nothing but their scorn.

“You said you meant everything,” Akira said, reaching for Goro’s hand. “Even that you wanted me. The last thing that I remember before waking up here is your hands on me, and you weren’t hurting me. You were trying to make it better.” He shook his head, clutching Goro’s hand against his chest. “Whatever you think, you aren’t evil, no matter what you did to me. No matter what you’ve done up until now. Help us make it right. I know I’m probably rambling, but please.”

A startled laugh slipped out before Goro could catch it, low and mildly hysterical. “What is _wrong_ with you?” he muttered.

“I’m an idiot, as you’ve told me many times,” Akira replied. “But I’m an idiot that’s been in love with you for months now, and stupidly enough, this wasn’t enough to change that.” He looked around at the rest of the Thieves. “If we come up with a plan to take down Yukimura, fake my death, and take out Shido, is everyone onboard?”

No one spoke, not wanting to be the first to agree or disagree, but at last Haru said, “I cannot forgive what you did to my father, but I understand your circumstances. I think we can all work together to ensure that the people truly behind all of this pay for their crimes.”

The rest of the Thieves nodded their agreement, and Goro ducked his head, feeling so overwhelmed he could barely speak. “Very well. I… Please help me with Shido.”

“We will,” Akira said softly. “We can go over plans tomorrow. For now just...let’s all get some rest.”

***

It turned into a massive sleepover in Ann’s living room. They bunched multiple futons together and crowded in, and Goro was reluctantly dragged into the pile by Akira and Ann. Ann seemed like his staunchest defender at this point other than their fearless leader, presumably because of the trauma that her friend had gone through, but Goro still didn’t understand how any of them could be so casual about this.

They were all so affectionate to each other; it was disgusting. But...he couldn’t deny that he wished he could have something like this all the time. That would be too good for someone like him, though.

“Hey,” Akira whispered from beside him. “Are you still awake?”

“Hm? Oh, yes…” Goro rolled over to look at Akira. “How did you know?”

“Because you look all tense,” Akira teased quietly. “Stop thinking so hard. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

Goro sighed. “I can’t _help_ it, Akira. What am I supposed to do? Pretend that everything is fine and that you won’t throw me away after everything is over? They’ll be happy to work together now, but once I’m no longer useful, there will be no reason to associate with me.”

“Goro.” Akira wriggled closer and grabbed his hand. “Stop that. You did...awful things. But you’re on our side now. You’re working to make things right.”

“Is there anything I can truly do at this point to make it right?” Goro rasped, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

“I know one thing you can do to start.” Akira ran his thumb over the back of Goro’s hand softly, ignoring his sleeping friends all around them.. “You were right, you know. No one had ever had me like that. And I do forgive you, but...there’s something I haven’t gotten from you that I want.” He smiled at the wary look that filled Goro’s eyes. “I’d like a kiss, if that’s okay.”

“Are you crazy?” Goro replied, baffled. “After everything that happened?”

“Nothing else,” Akira said. “Not now, anyway. But I told...well, everyone, that I’ve been in love with you for months. Please, just one. Indulge me.”

“I don’t understand you,” Goro said helplessly, but he couldn’t deny that he wanted to. It was such a simple thing, but it was something he wouldn’t have dared to do in the Palace because it wouldn’t have fit Yukimura’s ‘aesthetic’. Here, though, there were no cameras, there was no pressure, and no reason he couldn’t take time for something soft, especially when it was something Akira was actually asking for. So he leaned in, pressing his lips softly to Akira’s. They were warm, just a little chapped, and as Akira’s hand fisted loosely in his shirt he became suddenly aware of the fact that the other boy still wasn’t wearing one. Just those ridiculous butterfly-print lounge pants of Ann’s.

They separated an inch, staring into each other’s eyes, trying to gauge each other’s expressions, and then Akira leaned back in, pressing more firmly. Goro gave in, reaching up to cradle Akira’s cheek in his hand and part his lips with the swipe of his tongue. He didn’t understand how Akira could possibly be in love with him, but he was so tired of pretending he didn’t want the other boy.

When they pulled away to catch their breath, Akira settled even closer, throwing an arm over Goro’s waist. “You taste good,” he mumbled sleepily, and Goro knew he was turning red.

“Thank...you?” He didn’t have the heart to pull away, regardless of what the other Thieves might think of Akira’s proximity in the morning, and as Akira finally drifted off he allowed himself to think for just a second that maybe things would turn out all right.


	4. Chapter 4

The worst thing about Yukimura’s Palace was that there were no safe rooms. He had complete control over the warehouse and everything in it, so there were no weak spots in his cognition. That meant when Akira, despite his best attempts, turned into an uncertain, shaky mess when they re-entered the soundstage several days later, there was nowhere safe to take him. Haru ended up getting him out of the Palace and back to the train station while the others finished routing the Treasure, and even though he apologized a thousand times for not being able to keep going, he was lavished with understanding and reassurance and kisses on the cheek. Including from Goro, which none of the other Thieves commented on despite a few wary looks tossed his way.

The following day, though, when they fought Yukimura’s shadow for the Treasure, Goro turned out to be a valuable part of the team. The shadow was weak to bless, and with their leader out of commission Goro was their primary bless-user. The Treasure was stolen, the Palace collapsed, and all of them gathered in Leblanc afterwards to have a celebratory cup of coffee.

“There is something that I still haven’t told you,” Goro admitted as they sipped their drinks. “I...want to be completely honest now, if you’re going to help me with Shido.”

“God, what else could there be?” Ryuji groaned, setting his soda down with a thump. “How many secrets do you _have?_ ”

“Just one more, which I hope that Joker will find interesting,” Goro said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he glanced at Akira. “You all are aware that I committed the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns, but you are unaware of my methods, I believe.”

Makoto leaned in, expression sharp. “Mental shutdowns are caused by the death of the shadow. So you mean the breakdowns, right?”

Watching Akira and only Akira, he said, “It’s my power; one that none of you have. A spell to unchain a shadow’s heart and let them act on their deepest desire without restraint. Loki possesses it.”

He could hear the others muttering among themselves, but he was focused only on the way the look on Akira’s face shifted as he gradually processed what Goro was telling him. “Loki…” he murmured. “A second persona?”

“Yes.”

“You’re like me…” Akira said. He sounded incredulous, but then he clapped his hands over his mouth to muffle a laugh. “Oh my god, you used that as a safeword…”

“Oh, shut up,” Goro said petulantly. “At least I gave you one.”

Everyone but the two of them looked slightly uncomfortable with the topic, so Akira dropped it. But later, when his friends were leaving to go home for the evening, he caught Goro by the wrist. “Stay, please?”

Morgana was being carted out the door by an eagerly-chatting Futaba, and Goro hesitated only a moment before agreeing. He followed Akira up to his attic bedroom and perched on the edge of the couch. He was ready to leave at any moment, but Akira flopped onto his bed, his shirt riding up his stomach.

“So if you have two personas, does that mean you’ve seen the Velvet Room?”

“If by ‘Velvet Room’, you mean the weird blue box with the ominous voice, I suppose,” Goro said. “It explained my ability to use multiple personas, but little else.”

“Huh… That’s weird,” Akira said. When Goro shot him a confused look, he explained what his own Velvet Room was like, and Goro grumbled.

“You really did have every advantage, didn’t you?” he sighed. He glanced at the stairs. “Is that all you wanted to talk about? It would have been just as easy for me to show you Loki next time we’re in the metaverse, and you could have asked then.”

Akira shifted to look at him, and lifted a hand. “Come here, Goro.”

Goro was halfway to the bed before he realized he’d moved, and at that point it was too late to stop, so he sat down beside Akira tentatively. “What is it?”

Akira reached over and grabbed one of his hands, taking a deep breath and laying Goro’s hand flat on his bare stomach. “I…”

“You can’t be serious,” Goro whispered, but he couldn’t help but flex his hand a little against the smooth skin of Akira’s abs.

“I don’t know how much I can take,” Akira said softly. “But...I want to try.” His breathing hitched as Goro’s hand slid higher, then he continued, “I want to know what you feel like for real, and...I want to overwrite that experience with a new one. A better one. If… If you want to.”

Goro’s fingers moved with more purpose, nudging the shirt higher to reveal more skin. “I want...to be able to take my time with you,” he said slowly, and Akira shivered. “I want to watch you come apart under my hands. And I want to see you cry because you feel too good, not because you’re in pain.”

_“Then do it,”_ Akira insisted, and Goro leaned over to kiss him. There was no urgency in the way their lips met, just warmth and ease. It was the only point of contact between them except for Goro’s gloved hand on his abdomen, and then Goro pulled away to strip off his gloves and run his bare hands over Akira’s toned stomach.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured. “It’s quite unfair, since you don’t even try.” His palms slid higher, beneath Akira’s shirt, his fingers finding nipples that quickly stiffened at his touch. Akira let out a breathy moan, and Goro fought a smile at how much _better_ that was than cries of pain.

Akira’s eyes slipped shut as Goro gently traced his throat. He was tense, but Goro just pressed his hand to his cheek and then tugged at his shirt, forcing Akira to sit up a little to get it over his head. There were still bruises on his sides, and when Goro slipped the waistband of his sweatpants down just a little there were bruises on his hips that matched Goro’s handprints. It made him freeze, and Akira blinked before realizing what he was looking at.

“I’m not upset,” he whispered. “I’m not, really. Please keep touching me.”

“Don’t hold back for my sake,” Goro huffed. “Don’t force yourself to keep going if it’s not what you want.” But he tugged the sweatpants off, taking Akira’s socks with them in the same motion and carefully ignoring the half-hard bulge in his underwear. Instead he leaned over to press a kiss to his hipbone, working his mouth over the spots his hands had marred before.

Lazy, gentle moves kept Akira calm, making sure that one touch flowed seamlessly into another so that there was never a question of where he was going to touch next. Akira’s breaths were deep and even, and while he trembled as Goro finally stripped him bare, he didn’t object. He just let out a purr as Goro took him in hand and stroked slowly.

It was too much to hope that he would stay still, though, and once he was able to think through the pleasure, he tugged at Goro’s clothes. “Y-You’re still dressed.”

“Do you want me to undress, or do you want me to keep touching you?” Goro teased quietly, but he didn’t actually wait for the answer, pulling away to tug his shirt over his head. That was as much as he took off, though, before settling back beside Akira to resume his attentions. “Just let me focus on you, you stubborn idiot. This is enough for now. I’m not going to fuck you.”

Akira shuddered as Goro thumbed over the head of his cock gently. “Why not?” he gasped, his voice catching on a moan.

“Because you’re hurt,” Goro said firmly. “Healing patches can’t fix everything, and even if they could, I’m not letting you fling yourself into this all at once.”

“I’m fine, seriously…”

Goro raised an eyebrow, then released his cock to dip his fingers and prod Akira’s entrance. He fully expected the flinch and the flash of fear that crossed Akira’s eyes, and just kept staring at him. “You were saying?”

Akira pouted. “Okay, fine, you were right. I… Not yet.” He bucked his hips a little, missing Goro’s touch.

“I’ve hurt you enough. I’d rather not cause you any more pain.” Goro shifted to lie between his legs and ducked his head, using his weight on Akira’s thighs to keep him pinned as he took his cock into his mouth. Akira wailed, his voice breaking as Goro bobbed his head, letting his tongue lavish attention on the underside and the sensitive tip. Unlike the last time he’d been pinned down, this was nothing but overwhelming pleasure filling his senses, driving away any thoughts of anxiety or fear.

He managed to look down at Goro, who peered up at him through his bangs with hungry red eyes, and he gasped. “Goro, wait, I’m--”

Goro promptly ignored the warning, sucking harder, and Akira grabbed helplessly at the pillow and tried to writhe against the hold on his hips. It was too much, too good, hot and slick and perfect, and with a sharp cry he came in the detective’s mouth, watching in awe as Goro swallowed it down without hesitation.

Fatigue settled over him like a blanket as Goro crawled up to lie next to him and pull him against his side. Akira sighed, nosing at his bare collarbone and reaching for the button of his pants. “‘s not fair if it’s just me…”

There were no protests, so Akira worked the pants open and pushed Goro’s boxers down to free his cock. It didn’t feel nearly as big in his hand as it had felt inside of him, and he felt the tiniest bit smug at the whimper Goro didn’t manage to silence. It didn’t take long before he was shivering, coming across his bare stomach and burying his face in Akira’s hair to muffle his shuddering moans. After a moment to catch his breath, though, he glanced at his stomach and sighed.

“At least I avoided making a mess,” he teased, squeezing Akira gently against his side. He reached for his discarded shirt, mopping up his stomach lazily. “I’ll borrow one of yours, I suppose.”

“What if I’d rather make you pick between walking through Leblanc either shirtless or in a shirt stained with cum?” Akira said, hiding his grin against Goro’s neck. There was no reason he should be so comfortable with the boy that had attacked him and planned to kill him, but he couldn’t help it. Really, it was between him and Goro. If they were fine, then other people’s opinions didn’t matter.

Things weren’t over, not by a long shot, but they had a plan, they had a target, and they had a new ally. Masayoshi Shido would fall, and they were going to be just fine. Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do this prompt when I first saw it, but I was...going through some shit when I finally ended up writing it, so it was a good opportunity for catharsis, in multiple ways. I'm at least happy with how Akechi's breakdown turned out, so...
> 
> Yeah. ^_^;;;


End file.
